Rapid Departure
by slopes
Summary: Eh, from a story I have been working on forever. An opening scene about Elizabeth and her son being thrown off the plan for reuniting with William. Of course it's Jack who does the throwing, but that's an aside. I like the way it sounds, hope others like it too.


What makes a good mother? For Elizabeth Turner the question was unanswerable. Did it mean always being there to protect a child or letting them learn from experience? Did it mean providing luxuries as her own father had, or was it fine to suffice off of hard work and a humble home? Did it entail engaging a child into a higher class or teaching him to enjoy the rugged freedoms of the commoners? So far, she had pretty much stuck to the latter options in her own exploration of motherhood. So far, she firmly believed, her son was growing into a very respectable boy, regardless of what anyone said.

Elizabeth was not naïve to the whispers the other townswomen spewed about her unusual lifestyle. Governesses scorned her relinquish and fall from the noble society, condemning her for her father's traitorous turn and scoffing at the solitude she had caused herself. Maidens and middle class mothers detested her independence, puzzling over her reasons for choosing the life of a widow rather than finding a second husband to provide for the family. Whenever her boy ran into trouble in town, the blame was quickly put on his lack of fatherly guidance. Wenches and tavern girls were less cruel, also disdained for their wanton attitudes, but still unfriendly. Their harshness mostly sprung from what Elizabeth saw as jealousy. She was a famed pirate after all, and on the rare occasions that she visited the bars, the men showed high respect for her presence. On those nights, her eyes often caught the sneers and stiff noses the whores aimed behind her back.

Elizabeth though, let not the petty feelings and gossip of her fellow gender rile her blood. Arguing or striking back would not mend their stone hard beliefs; nor did she wish to waste time on people so unimportant. There were plenty other aspects of life that she wished to enjoy instead. She had her family and independence; the only two things she could ever claim as necessities.

William IV Turner was a beautiful son, only nine years old and encased in smiles and mischief. Though he was far too lovely to be his father's young portrait, William III, or Wills as she had taken to calling him, had stolen her husband's attitude unknowingly. His devotion and natural gentleman's nature were distinctly traits of the Turner blood. Spending time with him some nights brought her back in years, to friendly immature conversations between herself and a young aspiring blacksmith. If Will were to see his boy, he would be nothing less than a swell of pride.

Together, Elizabeth and Wills shared a small hut on the grassy cliffs outside of an indistinct harbor town. The location was ideal by several reasons. For one, they had the furthest view over the sea that the land could offer. The past one and a half decades had attached Elizabeth's heart and sense of adventure to the endless water. Whenever sails came into view, for a brief moment, she would descend into dreaming that the tenth year had arrived, and she was witnessing the return of the _Flying Dutchman_. Then when her moment would vanish, she would revisit merry memories of the months she spent aboard similar vessels, often astonishing young Wills with her stories until the sails either reached port or faded into the horizon. More than not the ships merely passed by, but Elizabeth hardly missed when they did come into dock.

This was her second reason for settling on the cliff, it made a great lookout and was a safe distance from the rugged harbor. The _Black Pearl_, _The Empress, _the_ Endeavour, _and so many other ships had taught her to always be aware of who was coming and going. As well, the distance kept Wills out of the nightlife and brutish crowds of privateers and sailors. The port hardly established a notch of Tortuga's vulgarity and barbarism, but nevertheless, men coming off weeks of sea life would drink heavily and brawl till dawn. Elizabeth did not mean to keep her son entirely from the scenes. When he was a few years older she would let him wander freely. Currently though, she permitted him to wander alone only during the daytime hours.

Today as they made their way back from the markets, Wills was enthralled with the size of the Navy ship that had been in port, to the point where he talked himself breathless. Elizabeth withheld her laugh, watching his mop of brown waves bounce up the path. It had probably been the biggest ship he'd yet seen, she realized. Perhaps it was the biggest she'd seen as well, spanning one and a half lengths of the Black Pearl with double masts taller than any tree she'd ever encountered. In fact, the whole town had come to the docks just to gape.

"Mum, I'll be up ahead!" Her son's choir-boy like voice called. He did not wait for her approval, dashing around the winding corner of weeds.

"Wills!" She hastily yelled. "Mind the cloth!"

She trekked along the dirt footpath to their hut, a brown sack of fresh swordfish and rice sunk into her arms. If Wills tore or dirtied the new curtain fabric, he would be digging out the latrines for the rest of the day, she frowned. She had been saving the unpleasant job as a punishment for a while, but really hoped to use it for his mischief in town, and not at the expense of her purchases. As she rounded the bend, her eyes scanned for the boy, unsurprised that he had completely disappeared.

With the afternoon sun licking her bronze arms, and the salted wind swirling around her skirt tassels, Elizabeth walked on, enjoying the beautiful weather and sparing no fret for her boy. To remove her mind from the thought of the fabrics, she planned supper, specifically how she would prepare the treats in her arms, and how she would serve them. Today for some reason struck her as special, and she had no qualms merrily following along with the feeling. Perhaps she and Wills could eat on the cliff side, and afterward return to the town beach to row out a dingy and watch the sunset. That would be a privilege for the two of them.

Shifty scuttles in the brush distracted the thoughts, only to bring a sly smile onto her lips. Her son had returned.

He was closer than the last few times, definitely becoming stealthier. Elizabeth did not falter a step, keeping her course along the path casual. In slight mocking gesture, she began to hum the pirate's tune, amused to find out if her pursuer would see through the ruse. Another quick scuffling told her that he did. Boldly he charged, the crash of soft grasses alerting her. This was the first time he ever attacked after blowing cover, a new tactic, and possibly the best had their encounter been more than play. He was beginning to trust in his instincts, she mused. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was far more practiced.

She felt the lunge as it came, prancing to the side to avoid the outstretched arms. Her son propelled forward, fully committed to the leap. Evading bodies or weapons was easy after the countless battles she had seen; it was motherly instincts that still surprised her. Without thought, Elizabeth reached her hand into the air at the last second grabbing the cuff of her boy's brown tunic. The motion, a little rougher than intended, prevented his fall into the dirt, but left him strangled. Elizabeth's face cringed for second, her hand almost dropping the cuff. Thankfully she did not make the mistake of dropping her boy after just choking him. Wills, hung limp for no more than a lost breath, before he turned on her.

Elizabeth looked down on her son, his small face perfectly ovular except where it was stretched downward by his chin, wide brown eyes opened in awe, and thin brows hiked in astonishment. He looked innocent, cute and harmless, as though he never had been sneaking about. In a wistful recollection, she saw in him the same innocence of his father, and hoped that he too would retain that characteristic forever. Then Elizabeth pushed her mind back to focus.

With a crisp laugh, she patted his brown head, ruffling the little ringlets of silky hair in her fingertips. The reaction, a small impish grin, revealed withheld disappoint in her sons eyes. Elizabeth could not help but laugh more, he was too open with his expressions.

"What gave me away this time?" The determination conquered any other emotions in the statement. Deep brown eyes implored her for the truth. He wanted to learn, he could take whatever criticism she gave.

"It was quite predictable where you hid, and you charged straight, of course I was going to move." Her son seemed to consider her words for a moment. Nodding his head to the side in his father's habit and looking out into the distance. Elizabeth could see the slight curl of his lips, and saw his nose tick up ever so; his signature habit for a new idea. Knowing Wills though, she would have to wait to find it out; he would deny anything she asked outright at this point.

"More importantly, where are my cloths? You did not leave them in the reeds did you?" She pestered, changing the subject and taking the opportunity to strike her son back for his game.

"Of course nut mum." He replied as though appalled by the idea himself. "I kept them safe in my tunic." He proceeded to move two folds of green and blue cotton from his loose front collar, smiling triumphantly as he delicately refolded them to fit in his arms. Elizabeth smiled, but refrained from ruffling his hair again.

"Ok, when we get back, I want you to leave those on the table and I will start on the fish."

However, sautéed swordfish became soon forgotten as the two came to their door. Immediately, Elizabeth discovered someone had visited while they were out. The two front windows showed glimpses of kitchen and dining room; they at least appeared untouched. So did their front yard also seem to be in its usual half cut state. What drew her suspicion was a slight difference, a mere change in the angle at which the rickety front door was closed. She had broken one of hinges on purpose after first installing the hefty sheet of wood and made habit of closing it so that it leaned inward. Now though, the tilt was toward her. It could not have be the wind, the door was both to heavy and the force would have had to come from inside. No, she thought, someone else had been there.

Wills knew the trick too, and realized the difference after she stalled. Trained for this situation, he quickly moved back into the yard. Elizabeth placed her food onto a rock on the ground, taking care to set it down gently, and then turned her focus back to the house. Cautiously, she withdrew the dagger hidden in her skirt and proceeded to shoulder the door inward. The rush of her heart, ready for a fight, returned like an all too familiar friend. Keeping a keen eye, she stepped forward. Everything in the two rooms looked normal. That left the back room, and the two bedrooms upstairs.

_Clink_.

She paused, as shuffling followed from above. Her fears were confirmed, the intruder was still inside and sifting through their abode. She made no more sound than a bird's footsteps, approaching and slinking up the short stairwell. She trailed to the upper hallway backwards, eyes ready to find a cocked gun waiting. But she found none, just the empty hallway and two open doors. The first led to her son's room, but the shuffling sounds were distinctly coming from the other. As she passed, she did notice though that Will's dresser drawers were askew and the bed sheets tossed to the floor. Whoever was here had already searched through his belongings.

Holding tightly onto the dagger, Elizabeth came next to her own room's entrance. Unfortunately, the intruder was out of line of sight. Mentally, she cursed, her anger boiling as she considered the indecency of a man teasing through her drawers. She hardly expected a woman to be their visitor. A new sound of shuffling and creaks confirmed her suspicion. They were currently within her dresser. The only good thing of the situation was that it meant they were right on the other side of the wall. Close enough that she could surprise them, and slip her dagger under their throat before they could react. Enraged and anxious, Elizabeth did not hesitate.

She flung around the wall like a banshee, knife raised, free hand ready to grab, and her face in a snarl. At the same instant, her mind recognized the intruder, but it was too late to halt. She had committed to the attack: perfectly executed, the dagger reached and dug lightly into his neck's life preserving artery, as her body moved behind to compromise the man's position. She was successful, and as her mind caught up with the current, Elizabeth realized she was better off just continuing as things were. Although the neck under her blade attached to a familiar face, she still resented the trespassing of her home and undergarments.

"What do I owe this pleasant visit _Jack_?" She spit his name.

"Ah, 'Lizabeth. I was' hopin' to see you." The pirate hardly acknowledged the dagger at his throat.

"Why are you here? And more specifically in my drawers?"

"Searchin' for a drink. Couldn't find a drop in your son's room, I'm disappointed to say."

"Jack." Elizabeth warned, though she doubted he cared that her son was just eight and far too young for the drink. As a quick reminder, she pressured the knife a little more.

"Even more charming than the last time."

"You know why." She spat back, finally lowering her weapon and stepping back to give the man space. Elizabeth felt glad to let him go, merely because it freed her of his stench. Jack did not respond, having at least some respect to keep certain matters quiet. Her words had been meant about William's heart, the one treasure of Davy Jones that was worth more than life and soul. The small beating organ lay resting in a chest, hidden below six feet of dirt half mile from the house. Jack knew the rudimentary location, but she did not trust the dishonest pirate with any further specifics.

Bouncing into the hall as though he had received a formal invitation into the house, Jack moved back downstairs. Elizabeth followed, letting him out of sight for less than minute just to call Wills back inside. Her boy wasted no time, graciously carrying her fabrics and the food in with him. Elizabeth cringed when he asked who was in the back. She knew her soon would be no less than ecstatic about their company. She on the other hand, did not quite like the subject of her son's admiration. She partly blamed herself, for being honest when she told Wills the adventurous stories of her past. Jack had come across as way too heroic. Otherwise, she blamed Jack for mystifying the boy with his quirky tricks during his few visits.

"Ah, the young lad's ere."

"Captain Sparrow!" He son exclaimed, forgetting his mother's presence to run to his heroes' feet. Meanwhile, Jack she noticed had discovered her stash of fine wine in the back cupboards. Elizabeth's frustration rose again; Jack had likely been scouring their rooms for the whim of it, since he seemed to have known all along where she kept the alcohols.

"Why are you here? Are you finally ready to let me join your crew?"

"Yeh mum would have me head in the gallows if I did."

"Oh, it would be worse Jack." She threw in.

"But' you will be sailin' with me. See I've a message Luvs, from William Turner himself."

"Father?!" Elizabeth was just as stunned, suddenly grasping for Jack's response. There were a little over five months left until their reunion; she had been counting each day down by the hour. Now, having news of her husband had abruptly drawn out all her longing, causing her heart to throb painfully against her ribcage. She felt plagued, in happiness to hear from Will, but slightly disgruntled that Jack was the intermittent. She wondered what had occurred for the two to converse, concluding that it probably was an unusual journey worth at least a few hours telling.

Reconsidering, Elizabeth was not quite sure she wanted to hear at all, pretty certain that anything involving Jack also involved upsetting supernatural forces or causing cursed mayhem.

"It's been nine years and seven months. Time is tickin' and we didn't want your darling family to lose the one precious day without a meetin' spot." Elizabeth scrunched her nose, not quite understanding his drift.

"Jack, William and I already agreed to meet where we parted."

"Been compromised, luv. Some of the pirate crews are fretting the idea of losing Davy Jones fa good. So we are changing up location, I'd be takin ye there myself." For a second Jack paused, fumbling around with his tongue. They waited for him to finish whatever he seemed unwilling to outright say.

"….oh, and Will sends his luv and.. that sort."

"Did he say anything about me?" She could hear the nerved eagerness in her son's voice. Her heart throbbed again.

"Quite a shock to him to here of ya, hopes ya aren't a little sea monster."

"Jack!" Elizabeth scolded his name yet another time. Even in a friendly meeting the crude pirate could not show the slightest concern. Elizabeth had no trouble knowing that Will would adore his son. But Wills was a young child who had never met his father; he obviously harbored doubts.

"Fine, woman. He was overjoyed, cannot wait to meet you, barnacles or skin." At least her son smiled this time.

After that, they did not dawdle, hearing the journey would be a few months trip itself. Jack and William had gone out on lengths to avoid the possibility of others intercepting them. Hurriedly stowing a few changes of clothes, two pistols, two daggers, and a couple vanities into both her and Wills' ruck sacks, the three set out. They unburied the chest; concealing it in a third sack which Elizabeth refused to let Jack carry, and departed for the harbor. Elizabeth and Wills said no goodbyes to their few friends in town, keeping their departure secret. She sympathized for her son, who was being forced to turn his back on the only life he had ever known. He did well though, keeping a casual act when a group of school boys met them halfway. For the present, Elizabeth assumed, he was probably too overcome with thrills about meeting his father and the chance to sail to care for leaving home. Certainly, those two prospects currently had her skipping every other step.

With one short dingy ride, the three boarded the Black Pearl. At that point Elizabeth gave up trying to quell her excitement. The crew greeted her and son with fond remembrances from their last visit, Wills enjoying the attention over his two years of growth. While he left to explore the ship, she traveled to the bow, letting the sea salt spray cleanly over her body, and the warm winds tussle hair into her face. Oh, she had missed the feel of the large powerful ships so much. She had missed the rock of the waves, and promising open canvas of blue. She could hardly wait to get out of port, and then to reach the new land.

With so many emotions and happy prospects spiraling around her head, Elizabeth never even felt an inkling of urge to look back or say goodbye as the Black Pearl sped out of port.


End file.
